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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779854">Variations on a Theme</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightbreeze987/pseuds/Nightbreeze987'>Nightbreeze987</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Twoset oneshots! [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TwoSet, Twosetviolin, twoset violin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Self-Discovery, what if they failed to reach their kickstarter goal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:00:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779854</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightbreeze987/pseuds/Nightbreeze987</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brett could scarcely remember a time where he’d ever been unhappy with Eddy.</p><p>Sure, he’s sometimes be upset at Eddy, but he’d never felt discontented or happy when they were together. Even when Eddy had a girlfriend. Even while they were separated by thousands of kilometres. Even when they failed to reach their Kickstarter campaign goal. It had always just been Brett and Eddy against the world.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddy Chen &amp; Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Twoset oneshots! [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Variations on a Theme</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosetmeridian/gifts">twosetmeridian</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Brett could scarcely remember a time where he’d ever been unhappy with Eddy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sure, he’s sometimes be upset at Eddy, but he’d never felt discontented or happy when they were together. Even when Eddy had a girlfriend. Even while they were separated by thousands of kilometres. Even when they failed to reach their Kickstarter campaign goal. It had always just been Brett and Eddy against the world.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dude, I’m really sorry,” Eddy bit back tears of frustration. He rolled their sleeping bags up and packed them into his car boot. Their deadline had passed and they were still short of their goal. In the silence during the drive back to Eddy’s house, they knew the other was preoccupied with the question neither dared to voice: “How could they raise another 12000 dollars?” On their Facebook livestream, the fans tried hard to boost their motivation, some pledging another 30, 50 dollars, but it was too late. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Local concerts? Too little profit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">More busking? Not enough time</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Every offer they’d given out fell flat. Touching Eddy’s legs, private recitals, violin and viola cases, packages, dinner dates. Too little.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As they pulled into the garage, Eddy sighed, “Look man, we still have time. It’s just twelve thousand. We earned so much in just 5 days, I think another round would help us get there.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Brett groaned, “But the dates are booked already, everything is in place ready to go. I don’t think we have enough time to do any more.” All of a sudden, in the dim light, Brett looked twice as old as he was, haggard and pale. Eddy’s heart ached. “We’ll deal with that tomorrow, just get some rest first. I’ll get the things from the boot-” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Leave it, I need you now.” Brett unbuckled his seatbelt and eased himself out of the seat, as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Eddy gave in, helping Brett out, both of them stumbling into the dark house. As they sat soaking in the bathtub, Eddy seated behind Brett washing his hair, Brett mumbled, “I’m sorry, too. I wish I could have done more.” Eddy enveloped him in a hug, pressing his cheek against Brett’s soapy hair. “No apologies. We did what we could. And we will do what we can for this, alright?” Brett pretended not to notice the tears dripping onto his shoulder. “We’ll get through this together,” Brett promised softly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As they lay in bed, Eddy knocked out seconds after his head hit the pillow. Brett followed soon after, the ache of disappointment settling in his chest. <em>I’m not disappointed in you, it’s not your fault, or the fans… What went wrong?</em> Brett thought to himself as he drifted off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He woke the next morning at 10am according to his body clock to find that Eddy was already awake and busy in the next room. He heard rustling paper and the frantic tapping of keys. He yawned and washed up, discovering that Eddy had ordered Maccas for breakfast. When he sat down to eat at the dining table, Eddy launched into business mode. In the hour he’d been awake, he’d recalculated the expenses and announced the cancellation of the US venues with heartfelt apologies to the fans, promising to do the show when they’d saved up enough. Brett had to check in with the associations and reschedule the dates, leaving Eddy to Skype their team to inform them of the changes. The American venues expressed regret at their cancellation but said that they would keep their booking slot for another 3 months in case they changed their minds. They had instant ramen for lunch and went back to their planning, rehearsing and discussing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How about we leave a few more days between concerts so we can busk for more donations? We can say, like, ‘Our concert needs funds to go to Sweden! Please donate so we don’t get stranded here’. Something like that?” Brett brought their bowls to the sink and began washing up. Eddy followed, pondering, “I think that would work, but we’ll have to apply for busking licenses, inform the venues and reschedule the whole trip. Even cutting out the American leg, we’d still be spending the same amount of time abroad.” Brett replied with a weary grin, “Leave it to me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They finalised their decision and announced it on their next video, detailing the dates and changes in the description of the video. Weeks passed and it was soon time for them to begin their journey. After each concert, they announced the places they would be busking at in the next few days and asked fans to drop by and visit. Through the cold and fatigue, they played and played and played. Some warm-hearted fans bought them hot meals and donated to their cause. Little by little, they inched towards their goal. Each night, they would collapse into the other’s arms and sleep like the dead. Their physician ordered them to take a day’s rest before each concert where they would not practice or busk, but sleep, eat and rest, their only rehearsal being in the afternoon right before the show.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was tiring. It sapped their energy. They would sleep at every chance they got. One night, over dinner, David, the sound technician, asked, “Why do you guys do it? You’re exhausted but you still keep going.” Eddy gave him a tired smile, “We have a vision. We want to tour the world and spread classical music to every corner, so I feel that all of this is more than worth it. Even though we’re limited, even though we failed to reach the funding goal, we’re not going to let this mission fail.Even if we have nothing but our violins and sleeping bags.” He puffed his chest up with pride at the admiring looks and slow nods of approval, preening and looking over at Brett for validation, just to watch his lover slowly fall asleep with his face sinking into his bowl of borscht.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">City after city blurred by and the boys began to plan what they’d do when they got home. They had only managed to raise another 3000 dollars, barely enough for one show in Boston. While they were in their hotel room in Warsaw, Brett received an email notification and a call from their manager. He picked up and was met with a yell. “BRETT, HAVE YOU CANCELED THE AMERICAN VENUES YET?!” He winced and replied, “There’s still a week left before it’s cancelled for sure.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“QUICKLY, TELL THEM TO REOPEN OUR BOOKING, WE’RE GOING TO AMERICA!” There were whoops of joy over the line and Brett opened the email. Their manager had forwarded an email from a fan stating that while they were touring and busking, a group of international fans on Twitter arranged a huge donation drive, pitching in another 12000 dollars to cover the US tours. They made a video especially to tell Twoset Violin just how much they loved and respected their mission and were inspired by their cause. Some bigshots in the violin community like Janine Jansen, Leonidas Kavakos and David Garrett donated large sums as well, encouraging the duo to continue spreading their passion for music. Incredulous, they filmed a video thanking the donors, featuring the fan-made video, and announcing the reopening of selected US tour dates and venues.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After a last celebratory meal in Europe to celebrate the end of the European leg, they flew to America, where they met the legendary Hilary Hahn and had dinner with her. The food was delicious and the conversation inspiring. Never in Brett’s life would he have believed that one day he’d be recording a video of himself (and his best friend) conversing with The Hilary Hahn over dinner. As they chatted, Hilary asked, “Can we cut the next part out?” Confused, they agreed. Hilary began, “I know this isn’t really related to the video and I’m not sure if anyone asked you yet, but I need to ask, are you guys feeling okay? I’ve heard about the past few months being hell for you both.” Brett and Eddy shared a look and grimaced. “To be honest, it hasn’t been easy. We barely have any time for ourselves, not to mention for each other. We’re glad to be doing what we’re doing, don’t get me wrong. It’s just…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Exhausting and exhilarating at the same time,” Brett finished his partner’s sentence. “It’s a miracle we haven’t ripped each others’ throats out.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nah, I don’t think we’d have the energy to,” Eddy chuckled. Hilary beamed, “Take care of yourselves and each other, okay? Don’t want to get burnout, especially in the middle of a tour.” Brett nodded and thanked Hilary for her concern. They edited the segment out of the video.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next month of activity left the two breathless, whizzing through cities, hula hooping and shopping their way through. They had to cancel a few shows, but busking on the streets helped to make up for the disappointment. Before they knew it, they were on a plane home to Australia. When the lights turned off and all the passengers were drowsing, Eddy pressed tender kisses to Brett’s forehead and cheeks, revelling in the rare moment of unhurried, indulgent intimacy they couldn’t have during the past year of frantic activity. Brett murmured, “We did it, Eddy.” Eddy nuzzled into his hair, warmth blooming in his chest. “Yeah, we did.” In a whisper, Brett said, “I couldn’t have survived this without you. Thank you for being there for me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You did the same for me. I’m so proud of you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Brett used to have dreams of grandeur, thinking that the glamourous career of being a world-renowned soloist would bring him happiness in life. He had wanted fame, money and opportunities to perform all around the world. In an ironic sense, although he’d long given up his dream of being a soloist, because of Twoset Violin, he still managed to achieve those goals. He had come a long way since then and his concepts of success and failure had gone out the window. If 16 year old Brett had heard himself thinking this way, he’d scoff. Now things were different. Now, he had Eddy. Rather, he’d always had Eddy but now, finally, Eddy was well and truly his.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His two loves were music and Eddy. Lying in bed with the love of his life, tucked under his chin and surrounded by his warmth, playing music together and spreading their love for music; this was all he wanted in life.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Brett could scarcely remember a time where he’d ever been unhappy with Eddy. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading :D any feedback is welcome! feel free to scream at me about our breddy bois uwu</p></blockquote></div></div>
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